


"Birthday" Party, Party "Favor"

by BloodMooninSpace



Series: Sit on a Cactus, Brock Rumlow [3]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: BDSM, Barebacking, Bralet, Cheer Skirt, Coercive Relationship, Comeplay, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dom/sub, FaceFucking, Gangbang, Gaslighting by Proxy, Humbler, Impact Play, M/M, Multi, Rape By Deception, Rape/Non-con Elements, Stocks, USO Chorus Girl Uniform, Undernegotiated Kink, unsafe bdsm practices
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-04
Updated: 2019-07-04
Packaged: 2020-06-09 15:32:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19478824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMooninSpace/pseuds/BloodMooninSpace
Summary: This is an installment in Cactus'verse, and the general ideas for this were:Maybe Brock orders Steve a USO chorus girl uniform, for his birthday? Does he also arrange to spit roast Steve? Maybe do his lips real red, get that pretty skirt flipped up, and fuck steve good and hard?-AND-"Just a couple of guys I know are into this stuff. We will pass you around the living room, then I'll put you to bed myself"This fic is dirty, and mean, and Brock Rumlow is a BAD PERSON. He is a manipulative dom and an abusive partner.Read the tags, and take care to police your own triggers and boundaries.





	1. Chapter 1

It is the last week of June when Brock brings it up to Steve. He’s got Steves arms frog-tied, with rope connecting his wrists behind his back, pulling his shoulder blades back prettily. Brock is hard, and balls deep inside Steve, and they’re in the bathroom because Brock wants to see Steves reactions for this conversation, so Brock is fucking him up against the bathroom counter. It’s so easy to tug at the nipple clamps and ask:

"Steve, have you ever had a fantasy? Something special I could do for you for your birthday next week."

Steve blinks hard, and blushes, whimpering prettily as Brock pumps Steves cock in his hand, mercilessly steady and not enough for Steve to get off. Steve is fun to edge.

“Come on; you have to have something we haven’t tried yet.” 

Steve bites his lip, and closes his eyes, leaning back towards Brock. 

Brock bites Steves trapezius muscle. Brock shifts the pressure from the front of his jaw in the initial bite, to the back of his jaw when he releases and then bites again. It’s delightful, the way Steve’s eyes fly open and he vocalizes without making words. 

“Good grief look at you, you take it so well. I could watch you all day.”

* * *

Steve loves that hungry look on Brocks' face, and he has a passing thought. 

“Would you like that, watching me take it?” Steve asks.

“Is that what you want, sweetheart? To show off for me?” 

Steve shivers, the words are growled right in his ear, and he feels his abs constrict and his cock jump. It’s not something he had ever really considered before but --

“It wouldn’t be weird? I mean, for us?” Steve blushes hard at the thought because Brock finding another person to fuck him while Brock watches-- it sounds hot -- but he doesn't want to lose this. The hand on Steve's dick tightens and Steve loses himself in the physicality of getting fucked for a moment while he waits for Brock to respond. 

"I think, given how hungry you are for my cock, that giving you more than just mine, getting you dicked real good, might be something you enjoy." Brock finally answers, and then continues. “And it would be hot as hell to have you sucking my dick while someone else fucked your ass. I think it would be quite the show."

The visual of what Brock is describing makes Steves face burn, and his cock jumps again. Steve knows that Brock felt it, Brock chuckles warm and deep and right there in Steves' ear. 

"What, like, the USO tour?" Steve tries to be glib, but he doesn't quite know in what tone he managed to ask the question.

"Steve, if you want me to get you a USO chorus line getup, I can make that happen --" Brock lifts his hands, smearing the come from one on Steves pec where he grabs. “That cute little top is framing your pecs. Showing off your abs, that little skirt flouncing over your pert ass?”

* * *

Brock could fucking dance with glee, Rogers is open to partner sharing, to being shared. “Yeah Steve -- I can make that happen.”

Steves' face is tomato-red, and his dick is dripping, his hips are hitching as he tries to grind himself back on Brocks dick -- and Brock has an idea. 

He pulls out and slaps Steves ass. “Stay here for me.”

“Yessir,” Steve says, biting his lip and leaning forward against the counter. 

Brock goes to his closet, and reaches for the basket on the top shelf, some shit he got for a couple lost dares with Rollins. The skirt unzips completely, and the top has fully adjustable straps, so he doesn’t even have to untie Rogers arms when he gets into the bathroom. 

“Oh fuck, that's --” Steve pants out as Brock wraps the skirt around Steves' waist, lines up the zipper, and zips it up. It’s a bit loose on Steves narrow waist, but this is just for here, just to get Steves reactions. 

Brock undoes the straps and wraps the bralet around Steves' chest, stretching the elastic to catch the triple hook and eyelets in the back, then pulling the straps from the front and crossing them in a pretty X, passing the little elastic straps under the rope. 

The skirt is cheer-style, with alternating grey, silver, and black panels. Brock reaches under it to goose Steves ass. 

* * *

Steve jumps when Brock pinches his ass, and he can’t take his eyes off the mirror. He looks so different. He’s never worn something designed to show off skin like this. He can see the silver nipple clamps through the mesh of the little black --

“What’s it called?” Steve asks, not having a word for the fabric on his chest. 

Brock makes him wait for the answer, and Steve almost dies of happiness in the interim. It is so different from being dressed for display like this, and to have Brock’s cock push into him. The fullness feels bigger when he can’t see Brock’s hands under the skirt when he can watch the fabric tent as Steve’s erection lifts it. 

“You’re wearing a cheer-style skirt and a bralet with a clasp and adjustable straps. And Steve?” Brock pauses, and Steve can barely breathe at the intense look Brock gives him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. “You look damn good in it.”

Steve leans back towards Brock. He loves those hands on his hips, he loves the cock in his ass -- and apparently, he loves getting fucked in a skirt too. The modern century is full of wonders and self-discovery. 

“Please, please fuck me,” Steve asks, as sincerely as he can manage while _every last thought in his head drops below his waist, under his skirt._

“Take it easy,” Brock says.

“I don’t want easy. I want you to fuck me!” Steve hears his tone, and he does, he just doesn’t care if he sounds whiny and demanding right now, Brock got him into this he can damn well get him off too!

“What was that?” Brock sounds dark, menacing and dangerous, and Steve can feel his body light up with excitement. 

“You heard me. Just fuck me already!” Steve tries to hitch his hips back onto Brocks dick, but he’s pulling away. Steve feels the pressure on his ankle and then the world swoops as he falls. Steve lands on his ass and looks up at Brock in time to roll with the open-handed slap with some temper behind it. 

“You will watch your whore mouth with me, Steve.” It sounds so dirty when Brock says it like that, but yeah, Steve got paid for it in the ’40s. Helped pay the rent when he couldn’t do anything else for work. Steve straightens up and presents Brock with his cheek again. 

“I’m empty now, and you’re a tease.” Brock smacks him again, a crack right across his jaw, and Steve’s lip starts bleeding. 

“I love what a mouthy little shit you are when you’re riled,” Brock says, as he strips the condom off his dick and drops it in the trashcan by the toilet. “But right now I have a better use for that mouth. 

Steve sucks in a hard gasp when Brock hauls him forward by his hair and shoves a thumb in Steves' mouth. Brock hooks his thumb over Steves bottom teeth, prying his mouth open in counterpoint to the grip on the hair at the top of Steves' head, and Brock pulls Steve onto his dick. There's no other way to describe it, really. 

Steve has a moment of panic because he hasn’t warmed up, he hasn’t had the chance to swallow and adjust. There is just Brocks cock pushing further and further -- Steve gags. Brock backs off a little just to shove forward again.

“That’s right; you’re such a desperate little cockwhore slut that you’re gagging for it. I’ve got you,” Steve can feel tears in his eyes, his throat is wet and too full for him to breathe -- “That’s right, I’ve got you, Stevie.”

Steve gags, and chokes, and when Brock pulls back, Steve leans forward and presses his forehead against Brocks' hip. Steve swallows hard and takes deep heaving breaths, the band of the bralet tight against his chest, his shoulders burning with the pull of the rope against his muscles. 

“Is that all you’ve got?" Steve asks, looking up at Brock. “Because I wanted to get fucked, not teased by a cock-stingy bastard.” 

Steve smiles when Brock looks briefly furious, then Steves favorite hungry grin crosses Rumlows face, and he stalks back into the bedroom. Rumlow is back in moments, a funny little metal device in his hands. 

“You’re asking for it, aren’t you Steve.” 

“I want your dick, I want to get fucked, so just give it to me already.” Steve packs as much of a challenge into his voice as he can, and when Brock shoves the metal in his mouth and pushes at it with his thumbs, Steve finds his jaw pushed down. 

“There we go, no nasty straps to throw off the pretty sight of you, but a gag to keep you from running your mouth and pissing me off.” 

Steve can feel saliva gathering, and he can’t close his mouth because there is some sort of strapless ring gag holding him open and yesssssss --

Brock pushes his cock past Steves' lips and wraps a hand around the back of Steves skull. Steve pulls back just to see if he can push Brock into -- the grip tightens, and Steve chokes on the dick filling his throat. He shifts his weight and tries to pull back again, and it is glorious. The skirt swishes over his dick and ass, the straps and the rope are cutting into his arms and his chest, and _Rumlow won’t let Steve pull off his dick._ It is exhilarating to suck and feel his throat work, to look up and see the dark, intense look in Rumlows eyes. Steve feels wanted and desperate --

And his lungs are burning. Rumlow holds him down long enough for the world to start to get bright and fuzzy. Then he pulls back far enough for Steve to gasp in a lungful of air before Steve is choking on Rumlows perfect cockhead again. It happens again, and again, and Steve is lightheaded with it when Rumow pulls off and slaps Steve across the face again. 

“You look so fucking pretty like this, all dolled up and gagging for it. I know a couple of guys who I could invite to fuck your ass while I choke you on my dick like this.”

Steve was leaning forward to get that dick back in his throat when the words catch up with him. A couple? Steve feels a shiver run down his spine. He’s pulled forward, for a series of shallow thrusts that blankets Steves awareness with the taste and scent of semen. 

“You still want to be fucked, right, Steve?” And oh fuck, he’s right. Steve wants to be fucked like the want is alive in his chest, a living thing like that horror movie, a desire so alive it could tear him apart. So Steve nods. 

“Imagine it, getting my dick in your mouth and throat like this, and not feeling so empty.”

Now that Rumlow is calling his attention to it, that’s all Steve can think about. Steve breathes through his nose and sucks as best he can. Steve whines around the lovely mouthful of dick he has, and shifts his ass, trying to shake off the neediness. But the skirt whooshes across his asscheeks and sets up a little breeze reminding Steve just how empty his ass is. 

“Can you imagine, hands on your hips, and a dick sliding in?” Brock grabs the back of Steves' neck and pulls him slowly but inevitably forward. “Someone behind you pushing into that luscious ass of yours until you’re choking on my dick.” 

Steve flexes his hips, and feels the skirt swirl, teasing his dick shifting the air, and he needs to come more than he needs to breathe, and he wants to get fucked more than he wants to breathe, and it is wonderful and perfect and not enough all at once. Steve flexes again, the skirt teases him, and he wants, and he wants --

“You’re so fucking desperate for it, aren’t you Rogers,” Steve whines and tries to suck more of Rumlows dick, tries to get it again as much as possible in the only way Rumlow is letting him have it right now. But Rumlow backs up and backs up, and Steve has to wobble after him on his knees to keep the dick he wants to suck in his mouth. 

Then Steve realizes that Rumlow had backed against the countertop when Rumlow moves his foot between Steves' thighs, and Steve can feel Rumlows calf pressing against his erection through the skirt. 

“There you go sweet slut, I’ll give you something to rut against.” Steve pushes his hips forward, and his dick slides against the fabric. It is glorious. 

“That’s right, you little slut, show me how badly you want to be filled up at both ends, show me how badly you want it.” 

Steve is dizzy with want, and he is sucking for all he’s worth, and it doesn't take that long before he is coming and spilling jizz all over Brocks' leg and the floor. 

“Atta boy,” Brock says, before shoving Steve off his dick. Steve goes sprawling, still a little come-stupid from his orgasm, his dick still dripping and jumping with the aftershocks of it. So it takes a moment of pulling before he understands that Rumlow is trying to pull Steve to his feet. Steve manages it with more than a little help from Rumlow and catches sight of himself in the mirror as Brock is bending him over the counter. It's a shorter counter than Steves' torso is long, so with the counter digging into his hips, his face is mashed into the mirror. The mirror that revealed his spit slick chin and neck, the stark black lines of the bralet, the silver glitter of the nipple clamps, and the pretty flit of the skirt. 

Steve is grateful for the device in his mouth as Brock begins to fuck him. Bareback and spit slick, and Steve cannot hide a single sound as he is thoroughly fucked. His breath is fogging up the mirror, and the room is echoing with the slapping of flesh and the groaning and moaning that Steve can’t hide. Steve doesn't notice when Brock comes, so much as he is thoroughly aware when he is no longer being held against the counter or the mirror. 

His legs give out on him, and Steve slides to the floor. He is a desperate mess, and it takes work to make it to his knees, then his feet again with the help of the bathtub. He follows Rumlow out of the bathroom, come leaking out of his ass, the skirt making him acutely aware of the breezes across the wet jizz. Steve hears a click and realizes that Rumlow just took a picture. Steve feels his face heat with an embarrassed flush. 

“Gotta have proof to show the gents, so they know who they would be disappointing if they said no, right, Steve?” 

Steve nods and follows Rumlow over to the bed. Steve faceplants on the bed and screams into the mattress when that knocks one of the nipple clamps partially loose, dragging the teeth halfway off.

“Look at that ass. You still want it, don’t you.” 

Steve hears a drawer open and close, and then there is pressure in his ass, and then the fullness he recognizes. This is a hefty plug with a vibrate function, and sure enough, Rumlow turns it on. Steve whimpers as it seems to drill right up his spine. 

Steve humps the mattress and groans. 

“What was that, sweetheart?” Rumlow asks, and Steve shakes his head, trying to bury his face in the mattress. But Brock grabs his legs, and flips him over, shoving Steve onto the bed and crawling up with him. Brock kneels on the bed between Steves' legs and presses at the plug. Steve hears a strangled howl of a noise rip from his throat. 

“Yeah,” Brock says. “My sweet little slut, you want it bad, don’t you.”

* * *

Brock could leave it here, he really could. He has plenty to work with to both make the kids birthday special, and to push his comfort zone a bit. But Brocks not done playing with Steve yet. Not tonight. Steve is so beautiful when he is overstimulated and a mess. Brock reaches up and works the nipple clamp free of the bralet, and then clamps it down again, catching the fabric in the teeth of the clamp with Steve nipple. Steve in pain is a symphony of beautiful noises, and Brock reaches for Steves dick to help it along. Steve whimpers and tries to fight it, and if Brock was being nice, he would have stopped already.

“Yeah what a slut, still humping for an orgasm after all this.” Not exactly an accurate assessment of what Steves doing, but the kid has proven very suggestable already. “You wore my dick out, giving it to you, and you still want more.”

* * *

Steve writhes, and he didn’t know he wanted more, but his dick is hard in Rumlows hand, his spine feels electrified, and he feels so alive. Rumlow can’t be wrong, not if Steve is this hard, and dripping for it again. 

“I think my slut deserves a reward for taking it so well for me.” Steve doesn't really have a chance to process what that could mean before his knees are being pulled up over Rumlows shoulders, and there is a hot wet heat on his dick. There is a hand fondling his balls, an extra pressure on the plug in his ass, and amazing suction. 

Steve tenses up and comes, only to float on the endorphins and lose track of time for a little bit. He whimpers when the nipple clamps come off and is unsettled when the plug keeps vibrating while Brock unties him. Steve reaches up to feel the device in his mouth and hears Brock laugh. 

“There's a trick to it, and you probably won’t be able to take it off yourself, Stevie.” 

Steve blushes furiously and feels his hips shake through another aftershock, the plug still riding his prostate. 

Steve touches the fabric that cups his raw and sensitive nipples, runs his palms over his torso and down to the skirt. 

“You like that, Steve? Like how pretty you feel?” Steve closes his eyes against the enormity of it and nods. 

“I’ll take care of my little slut for his birthday, don’t you worry.” 

Steve lets himself fall off the cliff towards sleep, his jaw still stretched and sore, and the vibrator finally turning off in his ass.

* * *

Brock gets his secure laptop and fires off the emails to a few other agents. 

> _plans for the fourth are on, guest of honor will be the center of attention._

Brock logs back out and sets the laptop aside. 

Brock lays down on the bed, figuring out his positioning. Brock maneuvers Steve, then pulls his head close to Brocks dick and slips inside that mouth. Steve makes a happy noise in his sleep, and latches on, sucking gently. 

* * *

Brock wakes up to a cold dick, and Steve Rogers whimpering and fighting with the mouth spreader. Brock grabs a fistful of hair and wrenches Steve’s head back. 

“Is something the matter?” Brock asks, using his mission voice. Steve shoots him a look that is all hangdog puppy eyes and rubs his jaw. 

Brock reaches down and jacks his spit slick dick. 

“I will take it off after I come, slut, so get your mouth down here and suck my dick.” 

Fuck Brock loves how hard Steve tries to be good, even with the spasms in his jaw. He sucks like a good little slut, and it doesn't take too much for Brock to get off, he is trying to make it quick. 

Brock works the trick catch on the device for Steve and grins when Steves jaw clicks. 

“You’re such a good boy for me,” Brock says because Steve preens under praise. 

“Thank you, Brock.” 

“That’s sir to you, Slut,” Brock says, and curls over Steve to drop the mouth spreader in a bedside drawer. Then Brock cuddles up with his slut and goes back to sleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *wry voice* 
> 
> Happy Birthday Steve Rogers ...

Brock made Steve stay over on the night of the third, so he wouldn’t have to wait for Steve to show up. Brock hand feeds Steve breakfast and has Steve crawl back to the bedroom at 11 am on his knees. Brock unlocks the apartment door and texts Rollins.

> Doors unlocked, party is on. 

In his bedroom, Brock finds Steve kneeling prettily, naked.

* * *

Steve blushes when Rumlow steps into the room, still putting his phone in his pocket. 

"The party is on sweetheart, let's get you dressed."

Steve smiles when he is folded over the bed. Rumlow fingerfucks him until Steve is gasping and humping the bed, then he reaches between Steves' legs and snaps something around the base of Steve's cock. Steve doesn't have time to wonder, because a thick plug is gloriously filling him, then Rumlow is dragging him up by the hair.

Rumlow has an open tube of lipstick in his hand -- Steve recognizes the color. It's that same red he saw on stage, the same red Peggy wore.

Steve obligingly puts his arms through the blue and red sleeves and holds still while Rumlow laces up the back of the USO chorus line top. Steve has to remind himself to be good and hold still when Rumlow wraps the skirt around Steve's waist, and buttons it up. 

There is a knock on the door, and Steve jumps. 

"Birthday boy is almost ready!" Rumlow hollars and Steve hears the laughter from the hallway, and suddenly it is real. He's going to go out there and be fucked while he sucks Rumlow off! 

Steve takes a deep breath to suppress his jitters and turns to his dom to sneak a kiss. Rumlow bites his lips, demanding in the kiss even as he reaches under Steves skirt to press at the plug. Steve whines and arches into Rumlows arms, letting his nerves fall away as he relaxes into his dominants embrace. 

"Alright, sweet slut, let's do this." 

Steve throws a smile over his shoulder as he leads the way out of the bedroom and down the hall towards the living room. 

Steve stops when he clears the corner and sees the living room. While Rumlow had been getting him dressed, he had heard a few people arrive, but he assumed that they would be people from the gallery, people from the bar. 

Every last man in the room was from Shield. Most of them were from the STRIKE teams. 

There is a hand on the middle of his back, and Steve stumbles forward, the skirt swooshing deliciously at his thighs. Steve is acutely aware of the cockring, of the blood pooling in his dick, and of the thick plug that was riding over his prostate as he was hustled into the room and towards -- 

The stocks. STRIKE has brought a metal frame, with a metal stockade crossbar, into Rumlows living room. Steve is being pushed towards it quickly, amid shouts of ‘birthday boy!’ and ‘the party can start!’. Steve tries to resist, but Rumlow’s hand on his back slides up, to push at the nape of Steve’s neck, while Rumlow’s other hand slips between Steves' legs. The hand on his balls has Steve bending over and complying before his brain kicks in. However, with this many men in the room who clearly have more of Rumlow’s gameplan than Steve? He is face down and locked, neck and wrists, into the stocks before his brain catches up to what is happening. 

“Sir?” Steve asks, a little ashamed to hear how frightened he sounds. 

“Shhh, just let us get you set up, so we can show you a good time.” 

Steve can’t muster up a response as Rumlows deft hands pull Steves balls into the humbler. Steve isn’t willing to fight with that device on, and Rumlow knows it. Steve shakes as more hands force his ankles to spread, and buckle cuffs first around his ankles, then to the metal frame. 

Steve can feel his heart racing and hear his breath ripping out in great heaves as he pants. Steve can see down his torso, to where his cock is hard enough to hold the fabric of the USO skirt up, almost high enough to touch his body. 

Rumlow must see where he is looking because those familiar hands reach up under the skirt to pump over Steve’s cock with familiarity and ease. 

“Yeah, Steve, let us give you what you want.”

* * *

Steve whines. Poor kid, this is a bit more than he had dirty talked to him, but Steve wouldn’t have gone on his knees for them, he balked at the sight of the team. 

“I know, I know. Just wait a moment; I’ll give you what you need.” Brock says as he jacks Steves cock a few more times. One of the upsides of the super serum is that Brock can lace the lube with viagra, to help the kid get it up quicker and when Brock wants him too, and Steve appears to be none the wiser still. Probably just thinks he really loves getting fingered, which is true enough. 

Brock walks up to Steves' face and unbuttons his fly. He had stripped off his underwear back in his room.

Steve ducks his head. In response, Brock buries his fingers in that pretty blonde hair and drags him back up. Brock pinches Steves cheeks to force that plush mouth into a semblance of a pucker. It looks glorious and obscene, with the WWII era lipstick smudged all over it from where he had kissed Steve in the bedroom. Steve walked out here looking like a slutty chorus girl who lost her shoes and hose, and he is only going to get more debauched as the night goes on. 

“Come on, don’t be shy of showing the boys how much you enjoy sucking my cock. After all, they are here to celebrate you.”

Steve’s cheeks flash scarlet before the blush settles into a nice all over pink. Steve opens his mouth and licks the tip of Brocks dick before closing his mouth over the head and sucking gently. 

“Don’t be shy pretty boy, show them how well you --” Brock adjusts his grip to press at the hinge of Steves jaw and when he has the clearance around his dick, thrusts forward. “Take it. That’s right, what a good boy, what an eager slut.” It’s beautiful to watch the way Steve’s back arches under the praise, presenting his ass like a target. 

Adams pantomimes smacking Steve, looking to Brock for permission. Brock nods, and watches as the agent gives a beautiful spank, upward momentum right on Steves sit spot on his left side. Steve yelps around Brocks dick in his throat, but he doesn't bite or gag, and he turns his ass back up.

_ Open fire? _ Adams signs, and Brock smirks, and nods. Adams lays into Steves ass without too much warmup.

Rollins clears his throat, and when he catches Brock's eye, he gestures at the bedroom. Brock nods again, then returns to gently and thoroughly fucking Steves throat. 

“You like that, Steve? You like how he sees just how lush for a spanking your ass is?” Brock lets go of Steves jaw and steadies his cock as he pulls it from Steves' mouth. Given the way Steve sucks and holds on, he’s hitting that needy headspace Brock has been cultivating. Brock’s dick slides free with a pop, and a thin whine from Steve, like a melody to the even tempo of Adams’ hand on Steves ass. 

“What was that, Steve? Do you like them seeing you like this? Do you like how much they appreciate you?”

“Yes, sir.” Steve  _ breathes _ out the words, soft and airy. “Please, let me suck you, I wanna, I need to --” 

Brock lets Steve have his dick again, but not for long. Brock pulls free when Rollins comes back with the belts. 

“Steve, you are such a good slut for me, I told them how well you take it for me, and they want to see. You going to be good for us and take what we give you?”

“Yes, sir.” This time Steves' voice is husky, deep, and a little gone. His eyes are slightly unfocused. It’s a good look on him. Steves' voice is clear as a bell in the silent room. Not only has Adams stepped back, but the other agents seem to be holding their breath. 

Brock locks eyes with Corrigan and then Rollins, and nods sharply. Rollins hands off the second belt, and they both grab the straps near the buckle and fold their respective belts over. Corrigan is a southpaw, so he stands behind and to Steve’s right, Rollins is behind and to the left. 

The first set falls, and the next three sets rapidly after that, the ONE-TWO paired staccato ringing off the walls. Brock has to school his features into concern when he crouches down and wipes blood off Steves' lip. 

“Oh, sweet thing, you bit yourself. Can’t have that. Let me help you, yeah?” Steve nods, tears bright in his eyes. 

Brock fishes the ring gag out of his pocket. Steve holds his mouth open long enough for Brock to get the ring in, and Brock quickly draws the buckle tight, fastening it tighter than is strictly  _ kind _ on Steves' head. 

“Let's give you something to suck on, shall we Steve?”

A quick gesture and Lawrence is moving forward. Steves' eyes fly wide when he sees that Lawrence isn’t gloved up, but Brock gets a good handful of hair and makes Steve hold still and take it. 

“Don’t worry; I made sure only to invite guys I knew were clean. I wouldn’t want to deny you the full experience. Medical is comprehensive, and I’ve been planning this for you long enough to have every detail nailed.” The one-two drumbeat of the belts on Steve’s ass continues. 

Lawrence bottoms out with an appreciative groan. 

“You weren’t kidding; his mouth is pretty nice.” 

Brock slaps Lawrence’s ass. 

“Too bad we aren’t here for you, this is Steve’s birthday celebration, he’s the guest of honor. So, Steve, do you just want to suck on his dick while we warm up your ass, or should he fuck your face?” 

“How can he answer with the gag in?” The asinine question is pitched out from Stein. The man made STRIKE on his hand-to-hand skills, and his iron stomach for ethical violations, not for his brains. 

“If he wants his face fucked, all he has to do is drool for it. If he wants Lawrence here to hold still so Steve can suck him, Steve will start sucking, isn’t that right my sweet slut?”

Brock helps Steve’s head nod and looks up at Lawrence. 

“Well, which will it be, a skullfuck, or is he doing a decent impression of a hoover vac?”

Lawrence pumps his hips a couple of times. If Brock were being fair, he would tell Lawrence to stop moving so he can feel if Steve gives even a halfhearted attempt at sucking -- but the goal is to get Steve high on endorphins, and a little oxygen deprivation from a skullfucking fits that plan better than letting Steve nurse the agents’ erection. Instead, when Lawrence says he doesn't feel any suction, Brock chuckles.

“A skullfucking it is. Have at it, Lawrence!”

The man can fuck like a piston, and have at it he does. Before Rollins pulls his swing and stops the beating, Steve has drool leaking at the corners of his mouth and rolling down his chin. 

“His ass looks glorious,” Rollins says it with a deep appreciation, and it's plain to see that Steve heard. A shudder rolls down Steve’s spine. 

Rumlow fishes the little partner play vibe from one of his pockets and tosses it at Rollins. The vibe is designed for partnered-play feminine insertion, with the other part of the toy folding over for external stimulus. It is small, and the rechargeable part is in the attached battery pack. Rollins caught both sections easily and understands at a glance. He had better, they’ve used this set up on Ward before. To a vastly different effect, but Steve actually likes getting fucked. It's a blessing for Steve, not the punishment it was for Ward, to be made to come while his ass is being hammered. 

Corrigan is quick on the uptake, and works the plug out of Steves ass, leaving it lubed and swollen for Rollins. Rollins slides in the insertable section into Steve’s ass, then clicks it on. Steve writhes prettily. His dick jerking as he rides it through.

Rollins unzips, works his dick free, and just pushes it in without adding any extra lube. 

Brock looks down in time to see Steves' eyes roll back in his head for a second, as a thready whimper escapes his sloppy throat. 

Lawrence goes still, balls deep and starts to come with a groan. Brock actually has to shove the man back to make sure that Steve gets a mouthful of come. Thankfully, Steves' eyes had fluttered shut, so he didn’t see Brock enforcing how Lawrence came. Brock locks eyes with Karlsson and signals him over. When Karlsson has his cock out, he slides into Steve’s mouth on another mans come. 

“That’s it, give my slut what he wanted for his birthday.”

* * *

Steve would beg to come, if he could. He would beg as pretty as Rumlow wanted if he could just come already. The door of the apartment opens, and Steve feels himself flush red when a couple more men walk in. 

“Are we too late?” one of them asks. 

“Late, yes, too late? Nah. We aren’t even that far into giving the birthday boy our best.” 

Something about the way Rumlow says it sends a frisson of worry through Steve. Steve’s breath catches, and he is a little worried to feel spit get up his nose. The next heavy inhale, and Steve feels his blush crash back in full force. It's not spit. There is come up his nose, and he can smell it. 

Someone is fucking him deep and slow, and he doesn’t even know who, two more men just showed up, and there is come in his nose. It all gets to be too much for Steve to manage with composure, and he feels tears drop down his face. 

“What a messy slut.” The voice above him says. Its an agent on STRIKE team three, Steve has worked out with the man maybe twice. Henry? Hank Karlsson?

Steve isn’t even 100% sure, and they are all being so quiet about it. The ability to communicate nonverbally is something he values in the field, but right now he would really like to be told --

“What a good slut, taking it sloppy and hard like this. Good boy.” Rumlow speaks at the perfect time, and Steve feels his tears flood. Rumlow knows him so well, knows how to get the best from them as a team, and from Steve in their scenes. Rumlow planned this, just for Steve. He must know something about the way Steve will feel when this is done. Rumlow’s so meticulous and caring about these things. 

Rumlows' hand comes back to his hair, and Steve lifts his head into it, relaxing into the palm on his head, the cock popping in and out of his throat, and the even, relentless pressure in his ass.

* * *

Brock is delighted when Steve surrenders to it. Brock looks back, and Rollins was already looking up. Rollins smirks, and damn if Brock doesn't love that particular smirk. That is the expression Rollins makes when he is ready to fuck some shit up. Sure enough, he flips the skirt down, grabs Steves slim little waist, and changes his pace. Rollins begins to absolutely rail Steve’s ass, the pretty little skirt rumpling, and wrinkling as it is caught between their bodies. 

The room is awash with the wet sounds of sex, and its Karlsson who comes first. Unlike Lawrence, he doesn't have to be reminded to pull out. He is even paying attention to Steves breathing, so Steve ends up choking and gasping on a throat full of spunk. 

Brock grabs Steves hair with the hand that was already cupping his skull and holds Steves head up. Brock slides two fingers in, massaging at Steves' tongue, making sure to rub the come into his tastebuds. 

“Hey slutty, you ready for your next cock yet?”

Steve doesn't seem to be tracking, so Brock stands and feeds Steve his dick again. Nice and deep, snug off that airway and hold his breath to match. Pull back on the exhale, push back in with the inhale, and hold.

Rollins finishes off with a flurry of movement, a final spurt arcing onto the underside of the skirt as he pulls out. With a gallant hand gesture, Rollins waves Corrigan forward. 

Corrigan goes for it. 

Brock is watching, and appreciating the raw athleticism of the sight when he notices the spasms of motion and realizes that he has stopped timing his breathing to Steve’s allowed breaths. Whoops. 

“That’s it, that’s my sloppy slut,” Brock says as he pulls all the way out. “Taking it so good for us.” It never hurts to butter Steve up with a little extra praise, that and it makes what he did seem intentional. 

Steves gasps are ragged and loud. Then Corrigan smacks the ass he’s fucking.

“You like that, you glorious slut? You like taking it for us?” 

Corrigan slaps him a few more times, and the man has little to no stamina. Either that or he really gets off on hitting people that much, because he shoots, and pulls out, getting in one last smack before he flops on the floor to watch the rest. The DV they used to hook him into Hydra would suggest the latter. That, and his skill at breaking down, and breaking in, new initiates to Hydra. 

Adams steps up, and his hand is already pumping over his cock, the impatient little shit. Before Brock can manage him, Adams shoots all over Steves' face. Sure, Steve looks pretty in pearls, but that wasn’t exactly the plan. Steve moans prettily, the beads of come dripping off his face, as Morrison pushes into Steves ass. 

Steve makes gloriously little breathless noises while Morrison fucks him long and deep. Morrison isn’t exactly hung, but the man has two girlfriends who both think they are his one and only, and at times he has run up to four at the same time. He can fuck like he’s paid for it, and has the hip snap to match. 

Morrison is putting enough force into it, that Brock is almost worried about the frame knocking against the floor. The whole building is SHIELD, and he’s managed to flip it to nearly all hydra, so even if his downstairs neighbor weren’t currently balls deep in Captain America's ass, there wouldn’t be much cause for concern. 

Morrison takes his sweet time, and there is chafing on Steves' wrists from the jerking of the stockade frame by the time Morrison gives it up and comes, slumping over Steve to jerk him off while Morrison stays balls deep through his aftershocks. Steve whimpers and wriggles, and it's down to the final two. 

Stein is grinning when he shoves his short fat dick into Steves' mouth. Even when he bottoms out, Rumlow can tell that Stein isn’t blocking Steves airway. And Burns brought his toy. 

Burns cock is long and thin, great for choking on, but not the best for filling a cunt or a sloppy hole. Bless the internet, Burns has a collection of cocksheathes, that he slides his dick into, and they let him fuck with a dick that is as impressive in girth as he is in length. 

This monster is ribbed near the head and has bulbs halfway down. Burns groans happily as he tries to force them into Steves ass, to be answered with a whimper of pain when they pop in. Burns leisurely fucks Steve, taking the time to pop the xenophilic sheath out of and back into Steves ass every so often. 

Stein finishes, but the man has a voluminous load, and holds his cockhead under Steves' nose, making Steve sound like a snotty mess as he tries to breathe past it. 

“Get him loose.” Brock gives the order and watches as they uncuff first Steves ankles, then unlatch the top bar for the stocks. 

When lifted free of the stockade, Steve whimpers and goes down hard, Burns’ sheathed cock pops loose, then he follows Steve down, fucking him into the dropcloth they laid out, leaving sticky streaks as he is fucked forward. 

They haven't made it to the edge yet when Burns grunts and comes. 

“Alright slut, you have one more.” Brock drags Steve upright by the gag. Brock unfastens the buckle and tosses it aside. 

“Come on, show them what a good slut you are, and more than that, show them whose you are. Because at the end of all of this, you’re mine, Steve Rogers.”

* * *

In the abstract, Steve doesn't think it should make him feel this good to have Rumlow make that declaration. But it does. It feels grounding and gives him a focus. It makes him feel safe and wanted, and he is so glad for this, just to have this certainty that Rumlow would claim him, even in front of the people they work with. 

“Yours, sir.” Steve manages to say, his jaw sore, and his mouth tacky. “Your slut.”

“Are you going to suck me off?”

“Yes sir, want your cock, not enough until it's yours,” Steve says the words, and they feel so true. He didn’t even know he felt that way, and here he is, looking up at Rumlow, and the words feel as right as gravity. 

“Then come and get it.” 

Steve crawls forward and crawls forward, and it is always just out of reach -- then Steve catches on. Rumlow is backing away, to make Steve chase him. To show off what a desperate slut for it, Steve is. Two can play at that game. 

Steve bent down, so he had a little more space to play with the humbler. Steve pushed his ass in the air, and begged. 

“Please, sir, feel so empty.” From the collective chorus of gasps, he must make a pretty scene. “Don’t want to be this empty, please sir!”

Steve shakes his ass and adds in another desperate ‘please’ for good measure. Rough hands grab his hips, and Steve can’t see who shoves the plug in his ass, right over the still buzzing little vibe. There is a moment of fiddling, and Steve goes taught as a wire when the plug kicks in too. The vibrators are both set on a continuous pattern, and they are feeding off each other, feeling stronger together than he would have thought as a sum of each of them alone. 

Steve cries out and looks up. He fixes his sights on Rumlow, and army crawls towards him. Elbows and knees, ass in the air. 

“Please sir, can I suck you, please can I suc--” Steve gasps and shakes his way through a dry prostate orgasm, and tries to crawl his way forward. “Need you, need your cock. Fuck my face, let me suck you please.”

He would win, Rumlow, Brock. *his dom* would break, and walk forward, and give him his prize if he just begged correctly.

“Pleasepleaseplease,” Steve begs. “Need you.” 

There is a dizzying rush of motion, and there is a cock pushing down his throat: not just any cock, Brock Rumlows cock. 

Steve sucks with all his might, and he tries to make it good. When Brock pulls back, Steve follows as best he can, putting his lips and tongue to work. He lets the desperation in his body drive him, he has nowhere to put all energy of needing to come, nowhere, but in this blowjob, right here, right now. 

Steve does his best, and it must be enough, because Brock comes, right down Steves' throat. 

Steve feels so accomplished, so proud.

* * *

Captain fucking America just took some rough treatment, still has a pair of vibrators riding his ass, and is beaming up at Brock like a loon. 

“Rollins, you’re in charge of cleanup. I have to get this sloppy slut fit for my sheets.” 

Brock gets the vibes turned off, and the smaller one out of Steve then gets a tangle of Rogers’ hair and starts down the hallway. 

The kid scrabbles after him, whimpering when his injudicious crawling tugs at the humbler in a painful manner. 

Brock drags him all the way to the walk-in shower and strips Steve of the pretty USO uniform. Then he turns on the water, adjusts the spray to the highest pressure, most direct spray, and hoses Steve down. Brock is sure to aim the water at Steve's face, cock, and balls as the opportunities arise. When they are clean, Brock drags Steve over to the bed. Steve is compliant when Brock takes the humbler off, and sits on the bed patiently, merely hissing when Brock forces Steves swollen dick to take the silicon flex-sound. When that is seated, Brock adds just a buttons worth of soap to Steves dick and slowly forces it into the tight plastic cage. Practice makes perfect, and Steve needs a lot more practice getting off on being fucked before Brock is willing to let him come without his dom. 

Steve is pliant as Brock locks him into the mitts, and slides the leather collar around Steves' neck, then joins the cuffs to the collar by an 8-inch lead, locked on with a luggage lock. 

Brock shoves Cap into bed and then heads back out to have a beer with the guys to celebrate a job well done.


End file.
